


She Hangs Brightly

by isawrightless



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 14:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13366419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawrightless/pseuds/isawrightless
Summary: It makes darkness seem comforting and safe but it’s all a trick to drag people in. To drag her in.Leon has never felt this helpless.





	She Hangs Brightly

set after the events of Claire’s story in Revelations 2.  
-

When he sees her, when he finally gets to touch her again, he’s heartbroken by how frail she is. How vulnerable and open she seems, her movements barely there, her skin scarred and marked by bruises and cuts, her bright blue eyes trapped in the nothingness that is her stare.

He sits next to her and tries talking about the weather, about the TV, about Chris and how the man had to be dragged back into work because he didn’t want to leave her alone. He thinks maybe that will make her smile or show any sign of awareness but she only brings her legs up to her chest and hugs her knees, stares at the wooden coffee table in front of her.

That’s the exact moment his heart sinks, the exact moment he knows things are bad. Fear lodges itself into his bones, making them brittle and weak, all because he knows she’s close to slipping away from him and there are no right words that he can say here.

He understands how powerful this kind of emptiness is, how it makes darkness seem comforting and safe but it’s all a trick to drag people in. To drag her in.

Leon has never felt this helpless.

This isn’t a fight, there’s no manifestation of danger to be defeated physically, no maniac with a virus or something similar. There’s just Claire. The girl he met years ago, the same one who makes him laugh even in the most horrible of times, that makes him smile every time her ponytail swings from side to side when she walks, that messages him at three in the morning because she can’t skeep, his Claire, the one he’s been loving quietly for so long now.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says because the silence is driving him mad.

The mistake is evident in the way she closes her eyes and lets herself weep.

He hates himself right then and there for not keeping quiet, but he finds the courage nonetheless to gently grab hold of her arms and pull her towards him.

She buries her head in his chest and sobs, her fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt, staining it with tears, and he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t care, he wraps his arms around her and keeps her there, with him.

“I left her there,” she cries out, her voice hoarse and tired.

He runs a hand up and down her back. “It wasn’t your fault,” he says again, and she shakes her head and trembles. It doesn’t matter if he’s speaking the truth, she will never believe his words. She gives her heart and soul to those she loves and she burns when they go.

It’s quiet again after a while.

He looks down to find her asleep, no doubt taken by exhaustion.

There’s an ache on the small of his back that flares up all the way to his shoulders, making him tense and weary but he doesn’t let go of her.


End file.
